


Forging Bonds

by fall_into_life



Series: Ice Queen Weiss [6]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Clothed Sex, F/F, Multi, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-22 23:01:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16607087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fall_into_life/pseuds/fall_into_life
Summary: Queen's Champion Winter Schnee and her wife Yang Schnee ask Lady Pyrrha Nikos to be their third. Then, victory sex.Can be read without the other pieces in the series.





	Forging Bonds

It is somewhat of an open secret among nobility that the royal family Schnee has a history of polyamory. There are a strangely high number of “family friends” and “knights of the bedchamber” who were mysteriously written into the direct wills of the royal family member they stood closest to, and a rather less strange number of supposed bastard children adopted into the family. Without a doubt, there are also an uncountable number of mistresses and back door men who were never acknowledge in any way, not counting the intermittent lovers often taken by those in a position of power.

Thus, it does not surprise Queen's Champion Winter Schnee when Lady Pyrrha Nikos of Mistral simply nods upon being informed of said history. 

“I thought as much,” she says, looking from Winter to Yang. “One of my great-uncles was rather well-acquainted with your grandfather.” Winter blinks. She's certain she would remember a Nikos as consort to a Schnee. “Maternal grandfather. My mother married into the Nikos line.”

“And that doesn't bother you at all?” Yang asks, cautious. 

Pyrrha shakes her head. “It doesn't exactly run in my family the way it does yours, but my great-uncle and I have that in common. My last formal relationship was a quad.”

Winter doesn't visibly react, but Yang relaxes enough for both of them. There is a precedent for multiple sexual partners in the Mistrali _bacchanalia_ , but there is a distinct difference between multiple sexual partners and multiple romantic partners.

“We would like to add you into our relationship,” Winter says, stiff and uncertain how to not be, “as our third.”

Pyrrha blinks. Her jaw drops, then closes. She licks her lips, then shakes her head. 

“I… yes, of course,” she says, sounding stunned. “I'd… considered asking the two of you the same, but I hadn't thought… yes. I'd like that.”

Yang grins, scrambling over to Pyrrha's loveseat to climb into her lap for a hug. Pyrrha laughs, wrapping herself around the armful of woman she's suddenly presented with, only for Yang to stand right back up, blushing. 

“Sorry, I just got really excited! I'm really--” 

Pyrrha reaches up to pull her back down, Yang's thighs coming to rest on either side of hers. Her face softens, strong fingers tracing Yang's jaw.

“It's alright. I'm happy, too.” Pyrrha looks over to Winter, arching an eyebrow. Winter huffs out relief, moving to sit on the arm of the chair. Normally she disapproves of misuse of furniture. The occasion warrants an exception.

They separate only as much as it takes to sit on the couch of Winter and Yang's quarters, Pyrrha tucked between them. Yang nuzzles into Pyrrha's neck affectionately, Winter reaches an arm around them both, and Pyrrha's hand comes to rest on Winter's thigh.

Then comes the discussion, the negotiations. Pyrrha will continue as a knight-errant, with as much time spent in Atlas as she can spare. Yang offers to come with her sometimes, an offer that touches Winter's protective instinct. She shoves it down; she wants them to spend time together, and Yang is more than capable of taking care of herself. 

“I realize we've just begun, but I can't ever marry either of you,” Pyrrha warns. “By Mistrali law, your titles would override mine, and I'd lose my lands to one of my cousins.”

Winter waves a hand, unconcerned. “Should we agree on that level of legal commitment, a consortium would do just as well. By _Atlas_ law, a consort has every measure of protection due any Atlas citizen, and stands to inherit everything save direct titles tied to lands.”

Pyrrha nods, easily accepting. “And I have to have an heir of my blood. Not necessarily my own child, but someone I'm blood related to. One of my cousins, perhaps.”

Yang tilts her head at Winter, who nods. Yang smiles wryly. “About that. We're… hoping to have our first kid soon.”

“Hoping?” Pyrrha sounds curious, but not put off. Excellent. 

“We have made one attempt already,” Winter says, “and plan on another tomorrow night.”

That elicits an accepting noise. Then Yang kisses the underside of Pyrrha's jaw. “We were… kind of hoping you'd be there.”

Pyrrha startles, looking from Yang to Winter with wide eyes. “You… want me to be present for the conception?” When both of them hum agreement, she blinks rapidly. “I… that would be an honor. But… I.”

Yang kisses the hinge of Pyrrha's jaw, and Winter dares to slide a hand into her hair, gently scratching her scalp. Pyrrha relaxes, eyes going half-lidded.

“I'd love to.”

“Mm, good.” Yang twists to pull Pyrrha into a kiss, the slow, heated kind Winter knows all too well. Pyrrha rumbles out approval, opening her mouth under Yang's. When they part, Yang grins lazily. “You know what this calls for?” 

“What?” Pyrrha asks, though the way her hand slides upward on Winter's thigh suggests she already knows.

The grin turns into a smirk. “Victory sex.”

Pyrrha laughs, indulgent. Winter guides Pyrrha's hand yet higher, up against her inseam. She's yet to be quite this open about wanting direct sexual contact from Pyrrha, but it's the night before Midwinter and desire rings out in her bones. Clever fingers stroke the crease of her thigh, not stuttering in the slightest when Yang presses hungry, open-mouthed kisses against Pyrrha's neck.

Winter turns to slide one leg between Yang and Pyrrha and the couch, leaning back against the arm. Quickly, before she can get lost in the pleasure of the moment, she props a few pillows up against her back. She has a feeling she knows where Yang is taking this, and it involves their girlfriend - their _girlfriend_ \- laid back against Winter's chest.

As anticipated, Yang presses forward, and Winter gets an lapful of muscular women. Heated, solid, intermittently moaning muscular women. Life is good. 

“You don't want to--” Pyrrha gasps at Yang's mouth on her collarbone, “--move to the--” Her words get lost entirely when Winter's hands push in under her tunic and cup her breasts.

Yang chuckles. “You're not a guest any more.” She rests nearly her full weight on Pyrrha, trapping Winter's hands between two pairs of beasts. Life is _very_ good. “We can fuck on the furniture.”

Pyrrha looks up at her, panting, and Winter can almost hear her weighing pros and cons. Winter and Yang give her space to think, Yang dampening some of the hungry, predatory look in her eyes and Winter stilling her touch.

“Well,” Pyrrha says, “if you insist.”

Yang reaches down to spread Pyrrha's legs, pushing her body between them. Winter's hands move around to Pyrrha's back, unclasping her bra but leaving it in place. Clothes have never lasted long when the three of them come together, but leaving them mostly on this time feels like part of having sex on the couch, confirming that Pyrrha is theirs and welcome in all of their space. Like affirmation sex between a trio, not a night of pleasure between friends. Something that doesn't have to be perfect or thorough, because it will be repeated.

The three of them lean back, Yang getting her thigh up against Pyrrha's center and Winter rolling her hips to push Pyrrha into it. Pyrrha sighs, moving along with Winter and dropping one hand to Yang's hip.

“The two of you are going to spoil me,” Pyrrha murmurs, sounding not at all upset. 

“That's the idea,” Winter whispers into her ear, pushing up the fabric of her bra to cup her breasts more directly.

Yang grabs Pyrrha's hands, guiding them to her ass. “You're ours and that's what we do.” She starts moving with more intent, voice dropping. “Can you come like this?” 

Pyrrha shifts her hips, hands urging Yang to go faster. “Ah, I can now.”

Winter watches her wife fuck their girlfriend, heat coiling under her skin. Pyrrha's head drops back into Winter's shoulder, and she turns to where her lips hover just below Winter's own. Their mouths never quite touch, but Winter can feel every puff of breath, every rumbled moan. Her eyes flick up to meet Yang's, and her wife winks. This was an excellent choice.

After a shuddered moan, Pyrrha stops Yang, pulling her in. “That was…” She shakes her head, laughing. “Very good.”

Yang kisses Pyrrha, then leans over her shoulder to kiss Winter, too. She's blazing hot, and Winter imagines she's more than a little aroused. Winter turns her head to whisper into Pyrrha's ear, “Would you like to see her orgasm?”

Pyrrha hums agreement, eyes cracking open. “I would.”

Winter reaches between them, managing to open the buttons on Yang's blouse despite her lapful of Mistrali knight. Her fingers travel upwards from hips to breasts, pale skin stark against sun-browned muscle. Yang obligingly unclasps her bra, leaning into Winter's touch. 

“Watch,” Winter murmurs. 

It is hardly the first time Winter has touched Yang in front of Pyrrha. The other times, however, were less deliberate, merely incidental in showing Pyrrha what touch Yang enjoys. This is entirely intentional, with Yang even moving to showcase herself better. Pyrrha recovers in stages, her head moving ever so slightly as she watches. Winter's hand moves below the waistband of her skirt, and Yang finally breaks Pyrrha's line of sight, moaning into Pyrrha's mouth while Winter's fingers slide through wetness. 

“Fuck,” Yang whines into Pyrrha's mouth, moving to straddle Pyrrha's hips. “Please--”

“Don't make her beg this time,” Pyrrha murmurs, lifting a hand to rest on Winter's forearm.

Winter chuckles, and slides fingers into her wife. “As you wish.”

Yang rides Winter's fingers, alternating between kissing Pyrrha and moaning. Winter curls her fingers just so, and her wife's back arches. She hisses out a curse - in Atlesian, even - before dropping back down to catch her breath.

Pyrrha lifts her hands to frame Yang's face, smiling. “Beautiful.”

Violet eyes go wide, and Yang squeaks. Pyrrha chuckles.

“She is correct,” Winter teases, withdrawing her fingers. Yang squeaks louder, hands coming up to cover her face. Winter wraps her other arm around Pyrrha's waist, settling into her. “You would imagine after years of marriage she would be accustomed to compliments.”

“Hmm,” Pyrrha pretends to think. “Maybe she just needs more of them.”

Yang groans, hiding her face in Pyrrha's neck. “When did this go from sexy time to tease Yang time?”

“Isn't it always tease Yang time?” Pyrrha pushes her hand in under Yang's shirt, thumb stroking over skin. 

“We do have to sleep occasionally,” Winter demurs.

Yang grumbles. “I'm breaking up with both of you.” The way she tangles herself with them both argues otherwise.

The pillows behind her back do their job admirably, but they're insufficient for true lounging. Winter nudges Yang off, then stretches her arms over her head when Pyrrha follows suit. Without a word, the three of them move towards the bedroom.

“Winter, would you like to be touched?” Pyrrha turns towards her once they're in the inner chambers, gaze curious. 

Winter shakes her head. She is certainly aroused, and wouldn't mind an orgasm, but she can wait. They've affirmed their bond, and that is the important part. She leans down for a kiss. Pyrrha smiles against her mouth. 

“I am going tragically un-cuddled over here,” Yang says when they've broken apart, grinning.

Pyrrha laughs. “I suppose we shouldn't make her wait.”

“She has been teased enough today,” Winter agrees.

Winter takes Pyrrha's hand, and leads her to the bed.


End file.
